


robbing the grave

by The_Shame_Basement



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angels, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Fingering, Ghost Kink, Ghosts, Halloween, Karkat has some kinks to come to terms with, M/M, Multi, Possession, Sloppy Makeouts, Supernatural Elements, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 17:10:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16433468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shame_Basement/pseuds/The_Shame_Basement
Summary: CG: I’VE GOT SOMETHING BETTER IN MIND.CC: Well, don’t keep us in suspense!CC: What is it??CG: ONE WORD:CG: COUNTERATTACK.Karkat's got a problem, a plan, and three very capable co-conspirators to make it happen. Who says Halloween stops being fun once you get out of college?





	robbing the grave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [auxanges](https://archiveofourown.org/users/auxanges/gifts).



> prompt: local mutant troll takes his quads in varying degrees of dead out to scare the shit out of some kids bc they all think its hilarious. troll/human au is fine i didnt actually know where i was going with this prompt. dont like it thats cool enjoy urself stay hydrated
> 
> happy halloween! here is this for you

CG: MORNING, GUYS. <3

 

TA: hey there, babe.

 

CA: good mornin darlin

 

CC: 0͏͚͓̹̜͈͞1̧̛̯̰̗͔̬̞͕̙̻͉̼̯̝̼͓͓͚0̴̷̰͓̱̳͕͚͓͉̦͎̘̮͕̠͔̺0̴̧҉̴̮͎̬̝̹̙͚̬̙̜͎̜̤̗͝ͅ0̮̯͖̦͇̯͙͈̬͍͈̝͎̳̪͈̣͎͞͝͡1̡̡̣̞̟̖͓͡1̵̢͍̦̮̫͎̪͎͇̟͠͞1̴̸̢̛͏͙̜̩̫̰͚̖͓͕̟͍̫̳̳̥ͅ ̨̼̤̼̙̟̹͖̟͖̦͎͕̗̝͖̼̙̰̟0҉̫̺̘̳̣͓ͅ1̬̤͓͕̙̜͇̞͠͞1̶̛͚̭̞̲̙̩̼̪̰̤̘̗͈̕͠0̶̴͓̮̳͍͘͢1̴̨̦̘͇̳1̵̗̘̣̣͚̺͙͙͉͍͕̩̖͙̪̞͜1̷̯̖̮̭̩̻͕̼͓͖̭͎͕͍̪̘̹̘1̢̫͓͚̞̰̹̰̥̟ͅ ̵̶̬̟̦̫̟̞̙̞0̡̧̻͉͙̠̪̜̯̣̟̣͓ͅ1͠͞҉̛̫̯̗̤̜̳̹̦̘͘1̨̺̗̘͔̯͓0̸̧̣͔̺̙̻̯͍̭̦̥̥̭̕͠1̵̡̱̖͈͇̲̹͇̰̹̲̘̗͕͓̕͜1̢͇̳̜̘1̴̢̠̞̫̯͙̥̼̥̕͟͞ͅ1̵̡̜̯̙̙̞̞͉͍̲̗̳͜͜ ̵̸͕̬͓̟̰͉̼͇̝̱͚̜̰͖͢͝ͅ0̷̡̬̣̞̩͉͓̤͉̣̰̣̮̭͟1͏̧̣͇͙̳̬͕̬̮̟̗̮̪͚̩̠̥͕̳̱͘͡1̴̢͔̖̪̠̞͓̞̩̻͍̫̲̹̻̘̩͠0͏̻͉̟͖̩̪̬̼̟̳͔̘̠̩0̸̷͏̛̤̯̼͇̝͈̫̞̩͎̘̦̩ͅ1̢̨̧̼̟̦̖͉̞̱͙̘̬̪̫̹̞͔͝0̨͝҉̧̳̦͉̬̣̯͓̭̯͚̹͓̲͠0̢̰͎̰̯͘͟ ̱̺͖̭͈̞̼̟̣̳̗͘͝͠0̗̱̥͔͇͈̹͍̬̺̪̹͚͡ͅ0̢̛͚̺̰͇̗̠̥̩͝ͅ1̡͔̜͔̥͕͖͉͉̫͓̫͕̫0̶̹̲̞̹̲͉̘̤̤͠͞0͢҉̗͚̖͚̪̗̠͟͞͡0̶̼͇̠̞̹͍̼͙̠̩̟̩͈̰̹̜̖͜0̷̠̙̬̹̱̣̹̝̗͇̙̖͇̘̻͙͍͟0̵̸̸̶͇̦͍̪͔ ͙̣̞̳̬̥͙̦̱̣͖̯͚͠0̵͙͕̬͕͉̜̣͓̼̼̥̪̘͖̼͇͝͞͠ͅͅ1̢͖̜̠͙̱̜̕͜1̴̛̰̲̘̻̥̪̪̳̳̖͈̤̬͉̜͎ͅͅ0̵̶̩̘͍̯͢͡1͏̵̩͓̤̟̬̱͉̜̖̻̺̣͇͉̗̬͎1̵̦̱̖̮̕͡0̢̨̛̙̗̬̘̥͎̞̦͚1̢̡͈̺̖̮̟̹͚̻̝̠̣͉̫̲̝̤̟͞͝͞ͅ ̸̫̟̬̼̤͇̞͔̖̼͔̮͝0̸̝̪̖̻͕͚̳̟͈̟͕͖͚͇͘ͅͅ1̷̧̨̖̦̦͙̼̪̖̩͕̤̹̬͚̝1̡̠̫͍̱̱̥͇̟̝͉̞̭͘0͕̣̖̗̩̝̳͝1̛̻̭̥̠̩͍̱̳̭͈̮͈̗͝͡͞1̴̧̛҉̶̭̠̦͍͖͉̣͍̳̱̲̣͚1̧͖̬̬̮͕̘͇͚̗̯͘1̡̧̱̯͕͈̪̺͓̪̠͓̮ ̵̸͖̻̦̳̟̙̥͙̞̬̩͝ͅͅ0̧͚͖͉͖̠̱͉̜͓̬͘͞1͝҉̗̦͍̲̟̠̺̞̼͍͝1̵̠͕̜̼͓̬̦͈͎̙̯̺̺̹͠ͅ1̶̸̺̬̬͠0̖̦̝͙̙̩̙͕̩͎̙̼̞̱͢ͅ0͏̶̛̹͍̹̘͕̱̲̣̪̘̥̼͢ͅ1̴̞̜͙̠̦͕͇͙̼͚̭0͉̭̯̗͓̦̣̫͖̦̟͈͎͔̱̬̕͢͠ ̵̷̩̣̪͇͕̬̯̠͎̳̮͇͢0̶̴̯̪̠̞̻͙͍̘̪͈̮̫̜͝1̨͏̺̼̞͉̥̜̖̩̯̼͝͠͝1̴̵̶̢̹͖͕̮̭̫̩̱͕͉͇͍̤͕̞͠0̷̢͉͓͈͉͙̖̘̝͚̩̗̝1̴̴̪͙͍̥͡͝͠1̖̘̳̫͉̺͇̤̮̮̺̮̞̭͚̕1̷̨͖͓͉̣̥̟̼̞͈̖̘̙̰̳͘͡͡0̨̧̤̤͈͙̳̫̣͖͠͞ ̶҉̟̙̹̯̖͜0̶̡̮̼̥̹̻̫͇̙̱̹͍̩̗̣̫̭̱̭̫͜1̧̡͏̳͕͈͔̰̙̠̘̪̭͉͘͜1̨͓͓̰͙̬̰̩͍̖̬͈̦̳̞̯̮̬̥͘0̸̢̢͝҉͕̦̭̦1̡̠͍̣̯̭͈̥̹̳̣͇̹̕͘͘0̷̸̸̧̗̘̮͚̳̻̭̪̫0̷̙̭̦̺̦̲̠͕̦̦̟͔͓̪͜1̧̢̖̩͈̮̦̗̭͈͠ ̴͘͟͏̝̰͎͉͓̭̺̗̘̳̟̞̭͓0̢͇͕͇̻͔̙̫̤̞͢1̵͇̩̺̲͕̮̕1̵̶̝̥͕̺͖̙͇̫͠0̴̺̤̙̲̹̩̪͉͖̻͈̰͢͞1͏̜̻͖̤̗̥1̩͈̠̱̩͎̳̕̕ͅͅ1̶͕̥͉̥̭̠̘̹̗͖̯̙̘͝0̷̢҉̰̼̬̩̭̟̺̰̳ ̶̛͍̜̬͓̺̗͎͈̣͔͇̮͕̰͠͠ͅ0̶̨̨͍̙̝̖̯̗̯̱̦̤̱̙̳̜̦̤̜͉̳͝͝1͖͎̫̲͢͠1̧͇͈͓̗̞̹͚͚̬̮̻͕̺0͏̸͔̰̥̝̰̗̗̪͡0̨̨͇̝̟̠͚̹͜͜͟1͏̛͢͠҉͇̹͉͚1̧̤̹̞͚̠̪̞͔̘͕̺̜͓̙̱͚͜1̵̨̹͍̜̳͓̩͓̬̝̺̘̹̭̫̕ ̝͈͉̱̲̞̜͇̟̗̮̼͎͟͞0̷̷̰̜͚̱̻̮̻̱͇̤̥̳̤̣̠̯̭͍̱͘͝0̨̨̤͈̺̙̪̩̦̤̻͘͞1̨͜҉͖̭̗͉̥0̨̜̰̫̦̲̠̗̱͕̰͚͚͙̲̫̣͘ͅ0̢̛̛͍͈͚͖̠̳̯͙͚͟0̢̲͈̬̩͙͎̠̙̰̞̰͍̺͇̼̤͚͟͝0̷̤̳̖̣̗̟͎̥͍͍̱̟̜̤͙̳̮̪͢1͍̰̜͔͢ ̶̷̬̙̬͍̺͍͕͍̘̯̣͇̠͍̝̜͚͡0̷͕̟͖͇̙̺̗̙̳̲̪0̵͈͔͎̜̤̟̪̹̘̖̬̬̜̞͙͎̫̻͝ͅ1̷̕͏̧͓͚̤͙̞̼͔̞͈͟0̵̕҉͎͍̺̙̞̲̞̹̤͈̭̲̦0҉̦̥̟̮̪̰͉͙͓̙͚̙̭̦̱͞0̵͠͏҉̮̱̪̱̜̪̤̥0̸̖̪͇̲̦͇̙̱̳̠͢͟͝1̡̨̫̳̥͇̼͔͘͠͝ͅ ̵̢͓̰͙͕̙̘̞͞0̨͢͏̦̤̪͇̖̞̻͙̺̖͓̗ͅ0̦̰̥̣̮͟͝1̛̘̩̫̰̼̗̹͉͙͖̥̦͓̯̙͓͍̗͝0̡̹̦̗͉̼̰͖̙͓͙̪̣͎͉̤̖̬̜͘͜͟0̡̺̥̭̬̮͍̩̳͍̯̜̠͢͠ͅͅ0̰̜̬͇̜̥̦̯͙͖̠̳̣̜̭͚̱͢͠ͅͅ0̸̢͢͞͏̲̺͚͈̯̘͉͕͚̱̬͙͈̮̰̯̭̭1̵̧̘͔̫̮͍̭͖̗̫͘͞ ̴͠҉͓̤̮̭̫̻̟̝̝̮0̸̧͞͡҉̤͎̖̯̻̫̻̩̲̦͚̗̺0͘̕҉̱̰͎͈͎1̸̶̢̨̜̰͈̭͝ͅͅ0̸͈̙̖̘̯̳̜̹̞̙̦̗͕̦͈̥̕0̢̭̙͎̦̠͖̫̺͚̫̬̫͉̬̬͓ͅ0͕̖̳͎͜0̨̛̤̬͓͇̭̖̜͚̥͘0̴̛͍̭͈̼̩̪̗͓̭̝̲̬͖͓͎͞͡͠ ̴̖̥̜͈̰̱̬̣̪̣͙̥̱̜̱̼̬̠̮͞0̴̢̪̣̟͚̤͖̲͚̬̳̗͇̜͉̹̖̭͡͠0̨̧͙̞͈͔̫̘̟̺̮͍͈̺̜͖̬̼͝1̡̹̹̲̳̤͍̱̪̦̫͚̝̳̫1͞҉̪̘͈̞͚̤̼̩̦̞ͅ0̸̡̘͓͎̘̳͓̰̜̞̮̖͉͇̹̱̳̪0̢̤̦̙͈͔̫̜̰̼̩͈͟͞͝ͅ0͘͡҉̠̩̦̮͖̞̝͈̼͎̼̖̤̳͟0̴̧̖͍̬̗̖͢ ̶̶̛͉̠͓͇̣̣̞̠̙͔͍̣̜̭͠0̨͢͏̞̞͖̺̗̲̗̙̳͖̼͡0̤̥͕͈͓̹̦͔͉̞͜͞1̵҉̧̩̤̖̭͖̦̹̞̪̜̦͔̙̟͍͈1͟͏̻̬͈̬̪̱͚͉͇̹̥͈̠͔ͅ1͡͏̸͚̦̠̮̯̰̦0̸̶̨̬̠̭̟̗̯̠̭̲̮̖͕̣̻̰̼̬ͅ0̕҉͚̲͖͎̻̙̟̤͕̦̜͢ͅ0̸̘̪͎̲̩̺̰̰̰͔̙̻̩͡ ̶̢͖̜̣̪͇͕̗̦̜͍̠̖͞0͏̴̛̤̥̟͎̲̯̟̼͔̲̗͕̗̻̙̫͠ͅ1͏̙͉̣͝ͅ0̧̛̼̞͖͔̮͚̮̠̼̦̦̟̙͝͞ͅ0̵̶̨̢̢̪̞̙̮͔̗̝̼͈̣̲͍̟̩̫̺ͅ0̛̯̳̼͎̘̩̟͓͖̗̹̜̲̲͉͘ͅ1̭̫̯̝͚̦̩̥̹̭̤̦̗̬̺̰͟͠0҉̷̡̲̟̠͖̻̬̗0̶̮̝͇̲̤͖̣͈͎͚͎̯͕ͅͅ

 

TA: god damn iit ff.

 

CC: Sorry!!!

CC: I just get so --E--->XCITED when my gorgeous boys message me!

 

TA: eheheheh, iit2 alriight.

 

CA: just gets a lil old havvin to reboot my phone all the time but its wwhatevver i guess

 

CC: Well MAYB-E--> you wouldn’t have to do it so often if you guys didn’t keep texting me instead of coming over to say hi like normal people!

CC: I mean seriously, does anyone come over for visits at all these days?? 08P

 

CG: ACTUALLY, THAT’S AN EXCELLENT SEGUE INTO WHAT I WANTED TO TALK TO YOU GUYS ABOUT.

CG: SEEING AS WE’RE ALL A BUNCH OF SHUT-INS, I THINK IT’S SAFE TO SAY NONE OF US HAVE PLANS FOR HALLOWEEN.

CG: I AIM TO CHANGE THAT.

 

TA: oh man thii2 2ound2 fun.

TA: e2peciially becau2e ii know iif youre the one propo2iing 2henaniigan2 theyre goiing two be ab2olutely top notch.

 

CG: WHAT CAN I SAY, I HAVE A QUALITY-OVER-QUANTITY APPROACH TO TOMFOOLERY.

 

CA: excellent strategy tbh

 

CG: THANK YOU.

CG: SO.

 

CC: *listens attentively*

 

CA: wwhere in gods name did you learn to do that

 

CC: Language! -E-->ridan, come on, we’ve talked about this!

 

CA: oh fuck off fef kars tryin to say stuff

 

CG: CHILDREN, PLEASE. GET IT TOGETHER. WE’VE GOT BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO.

CG: WORD ON THE STREET IS THE MILLER KIDS ARE PLANNING TO OUTDO THEMSELVES THIS YEAR.

 

TA: oh you have got two be 2hiittiing me.

 

CG: NOPE. SAW THEM ALREADY STOCKING UP ON EGGS.

 

CA: god fuckin hell

CA: kar that offers still on if youvve changed your mind

 

CG: ANSWER IS STILL NO, BABE. THEY’RE JUST KIDS.

 

CA: aww

 

CG: VERY ILLEGAL, VERY MORALLY REPREHENSIBLE. 0/10.

 

CA: fine

CA: if you ever do change your mind though im a text awway and all

 

CG: SHH.

CG: I’VE GOT SOMETHING BETTER IN MIND.

 

CC: Well, don’t keep us in suspense!

CC: What is it??

 

CG: ONE WORD:

CG: COUNTERATTACK.

 

TA: iim pretty 2ure that2 two word2.

 

CG: I’M PRETTY SURE YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF.

 

CA: no no hang on kars bein all dramatic and leaderly i wwanna see wwhere this is goin before wwe devvolvve into bickerin an sextin

 

TA: who 2aiid anythiing about 2extiing. get your mouth off your own diick.

 

CA: oh somebodys projectin big time huh

 

TA: dii2gu2tiing. ab2olutely not.

 

CC: You SUR--E--> about that? 08D

CC: It certainly didn’t seem like you felt that way last week!

 

CA: hahahahahahahahahahahahaha

 

CG: OH MY FUCKING GOD.

 

TA: ii feel 2o betrayed.

 

CA: fuckin blindsided you dumbass sack a nuts

 

CG: CAN WE *PLEASE* GET BACK ON TOPIC.

CG: THIS IS KIND OF IMPORTANT, I DON’T WANT TO SPEND MY DÍA DE LOS ANGELITOS CLEANING UP WET TOILET PAPER.

 

CA: go for it kar darlin

 

CG: IT’S HONESTLY PRETTY SIMPLE.

CG: I PROPOSE THAT I INTRODUCE THEM TO MY THREE LOVELY PARAMOURS.

 

TA: B)

 

CA: B)

 

CC: 0B)

 

CG: OH FUCK YEAH.

CG: I’M LIKING WHERE THIS IS GOING.

 

* * *

 

The night is dark and warm around you like the fleece blanket your dad gave you as a kid, and it gets you jittery and bold. You dart through between the trees and let your good eye track the dull pumping movement of water and energy through the pillars of bark on either side of you, rippling like inverted waterfalls up to the clear, cloudless stars.

This is one of the many things you see that you didn’t used to. But then again, there’s a lot you don’t see anymore.

 

You flit over the leaf litter and avoid the sticks you can see, and come up to the edge of the forest behind Karkat’s house. A few years ago, you would’ve cringed at the thought of hanging out in the woods, or really at the thought of being outside for multiple minutes in general. Technology was always more your bag. But with the facts of your existence currently as they are, your relationship to your keyboard isn’t quite the same.

Heh. Ghost in the machine. You’ll have to tell Karkat that one.

 

He still blames himself. You know he does. But it’s a good sign to see him getting back into the swing of things as far as doing dumb shit goes. Speaking of which, you’re right on schedule, and you’d wager everyone else is too. You head into the house through the back door, hunching in instinctively as the light hits your body. Being visible’s never been your strong suit.

But Karkat knows your preferences like the back of his pretty brown hand, and he’s got the lights dim in the kitchen just how you like them. He’s waiting for you at the counter, a bowl of peeled grapes before him, a pair of cat ears on a headband protruding from his curly hair. You’d laugh out loud if he didn’t look like he was about to march into battle.

As is, you snort and walk over to the counter, picking up a pair of grapes between your first two fingers and thumb, eating one and holding the other up to his mouth.

He takes it gently from you, and is quiet a moment. You kind of know what he’s going to say before he says it. You’re gaunt and wind-tousled and thoroughly less-than-human, and he’s got that expression on his face again.

 

“Is it bad that I love how you look right now?”

“Mmmn.” You pretend to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m sure Ray Parker Jr. and the gang would have some suggestions on who to call about it, though. You can use my phone if you want.”  
He finally cracks a grin. “Man, you’re in a weirdly upbeat mood tonight. What’s wrong with you?”

“Hard to say for sure. Maybe I’m just- “  
“- no, nope, god damn it, Sollux, don’t you dare- “

 

“- in good spirits.”

 

He tosses his head back and groans, reaching out to punch you in the shoulder. You snicker, and also inwardly hum because damn, he moves you a lot from that single point of impact. He’s been working out. “Walked right into that one, dickweed. Where’s everyone else?”

His expression immediately switches back to businesslike. You find yourself privately entranced, as always, by the fluidity of his frameshifts. He’s calm and diplomatic, and he’s also crass and earnest and loud as fuck, and has absolutely no idea how profound the simple fact of his presence in a room can be. You’ve had this conversation with his other partners more than once. You’ve thought about this more than once. Cyclical eternities spiralling in your brain forever, et cetera. Metaphysical ones and zeroes. Basic facts of a half-cocked existence like yours. You ought to get out of your head and pay attention to your boyfriend, he’s opening his mouth like he’s about to say something.

 

“They’re in the woods like we discussed, Sollux, stop fucking _thinking_ so much. I can see it in your face.”  
You smile, floating up to sit your bony ass on the counter and rest your spindly fingers on the meat of his shoulders. He’s kissed each pale knuckle in the past, when you ordered him to. He’s let you feel up the broad firmness of his body. He’s watching you, amused, like he can tell your brain’s going haywire again. God damn it. You were having a… conversation, something about Eridan and Feferi, and god, you don’t even care anymore. The warmth and blood thrumming under your palms is too much to ignore.

 

“Kiss me,” you murmur, and then lean in and press your mouth to his without waiting for a response. He rumbles and picks your whole damn body up with hands under your ass, pulling you in and nibbling obligingly at your lower lip. You arch and grip him close. He sighs and hugs you back. “Are ghosts always this horny?”  
You snort, face half-pressed in against his collarbone. “You’re the guy who dicks one down every year on the Day of the Dead. I think you’re more than part of the problem here.”

“Shhh.” He angles his head and presses an openmouthed kiss to the side of your neck, and you gasp. “Shhh, my love, you’ll get yours. Few more days. Just be patient.”

 

You maybe lose track of what happens for a few minutes after that. You’re startled out of sliding your hand down his pants by your phone buzzing. Karkat’s goes off too. He mutters something you can’t understand and digs it out, and you settle yourself daintily back to sit on the counter and read the group chat on your own screen.

 

CA: fef says quit fuckin an get in position

 

TA: diid 2he 2ay tho2e exact word2

 

CA: she said wwhat she said sol the point still fuckin stands regardless

 

TA: tell her 2hes a hypocriite.

 

CA: wwhat are you talkin about

 

TA: are you telliing me 2he ha2nt taken the opportuniity two have a liittle fore2t playtiime wiith you?

 

CA: look can wwe just get on wwith this

 

Karkat snickers, and you grin with your tongue poking out between your teeth.

 

CG: YEAH, YEAH. WE’RE READY WHEN YOU GUYS ARE.

 

CA: roger that

CA: ill let you knoww wwhen i got vvisual on em

 

He’s such a drama queen. You roll your eyes, even though the effect’s lost with your lack of pupils, and hop off the counter. It’ll be awhile before your side of things comes into play; you suppose you’re expected to just sit pretty and wait for the competent members of your party to herd the little shits over here.

Fuck that.

You sidle on over to Karkat and nudge him in the stomach with your knuckles. He goes _oof_ to humor you, and pokes you in the forehead.

“I’m thinking about heading out.”

He glares down at you. “Sorry, come again? That wasn't part of the plan last time I checked.”

“No, I know, I just want to see what’s going on. It’ll be hilarious. I can keep you updated on it if you want.”

His expression shifts from sour to contemplative. “...I mean, as long as you don’t do anything dumb. We’re trying to be responsible adults here.”

“Responsible and Adult,” you coo to him, reaching up to tuck a curl of brown hair behind his ear, “are my middle names.”

 

* * *

 

And so you find yourself out in the woods again, except this time you’re also curled up on the couch with Karkat. You can feel his arm around your shoulder at the same time as you see low-hanging branches flicking by. It was disorienting the first few times you did this; now it’s just exhilarating.

You squint at two splotches of light in the distance; one’s a vivid, searing pink, providing a counterpoint to the other dot of violet-white.

You hover closer, keeping to the shadows.

 

Eridan’s crouched in a tree, decked out in in a black silk suit. You can tell the cape he’s wearing is his favorite from the way he keeps it draped over one arm. Feferi’s sort of hovering nearby, iridescing. It’s hard to tell with her preponderance of feathery bullshit, but you get the impression she’s kind of put out. Probably isn’t happy about having to hang out in her true form. She doesn’t really like people seeing it, not even Eridan, although he’s stated more than once he’s fine with it. He likes all her wings, even. Barely even remembers getting mobbed with seagulls as a kid. Certainly doesn’t still have nightmares about it.

God, he’s so full of shit. You’re going to make him cry once this is over.

But for now you wait and watch, and soon enough three pinpricks of light– puce, yellow, neon-orange– show along the treeline.

 

Eridan waits until they’re close enough for his liking, and then jumps near-soundlessly down to the forest floor. You float down after him– Feferi does something like a grin, but stays where she is– and watch him stalk towards the kids. They’re not all kids, strictly speaking. The oldest one’s twenty, and you’re fairly sure he’s the one responsible for the stench of weed that wafts through Karkat’s windows in the summer.

They’re all tiptoeing through the woods with plastic bags full of god-knows-what, and clearly aren’t expecting it when Eridan’s glowing eyes show from behind a tree.

“Hello, darlings.”

There’s mist curling around him that wasn’t there before, and wow, man, he’s really playing up the accent. _Darlins_. It’s low and lilting, uncomfortably smooth, with that near-imperceptible growling undertone that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. The kids freeze where they stand, and the eldest– Jason? Shaun?– pulls out a switchblade. Eridan laughs darkly and steps out into full view, then mugs an impressive snarl. Pearly-white fangs, needle-sharp and as long as your finger up to the first knuckle, glint in the moonlight.

 

“Kids are about to piss themselves,” you remark quietly to Karkat. His laughter sounds in your ears, tinny with distance. You snuggle up closer to him, letting your body’s eyes slip blankly closed while you use your real ones to track the shifting emotions– disbelief, awe, fear, anger– across the kids’ faces.

Eridan takes a step forward, and although it’s clear the older and middlest ones are ready to throw down, the youngest takes off at a dead sprint. He doesn’t get too far before he bumps into a set of knees– or, more precisely, Feferi’s knees, dangling at approximately chest level while she hangs stock-still in midair.

She’s at once human and incomprehensible-spirit-being. There’s at least one pair of feathery white wings, and a radiance around the chestnut-brown curls of her hair that sends sunspots across your dead eyes even at a distance. Her face, simultaneously normal and chocker-blocker-full of eyeballs, breaks into a broad grin.

“Hi!”

 

The kid’s scream pierces the night at nearly the same moment the older one’s knife hilts itself between Eridan’s ribs.

Eridan goes ‘ow!’ in an exceedingly miffed tone of voice. He glances down, then pulls it out with practiced fingers and lets it drop to the ground– and then _lunges_ with fangs bared. His eyes are that bruised shade of violet again; you know he’s wanting for a little snack.

They turn as a trio to run, but are confronted with Feferi still hanging in the air behind them. The oldest of them shouts something garbled and turns on his heel to dash to the left. The other two follow.

So do Eridan and Feferi, predatory and dazzling and thoroughly gorgeous. Eridan can’t see you, but you dart over and ruffle Feferi’s hair as you pass, and she giggles like water over smooth stones and whaps your ass as you move by her.

 

And hey, presto, just like magic (or, more precisely, Eridan herding the kids like a sheepdog who got caught in a black silk curtain), you all find yourselves bursting onto the sidewalk near Karkat’s house. Eridan chases them just long enough to get them going, then fades into the trees and vanishes. Feferi follows suit.

This is your cue. You dart back inside and return to your body with a jolt, just in time to hear the doorbell ringing frantically. Karkat stands up from his spot at your side to answer it, and you adjust your glasses and stand up to follow him.

 

Whatever-The-Fuck is standing at the door, looking like he’s about to throw up. His buzzcut’s got pine needles stuck in it. “Look, dude, we need to come in, there’s fuckin’– shit out there in the woods, _please_ , just–”

“What’s that?”

Karkat jerks his chin towards the bag of eggs hanging at Dickface McGee’s side. Dickface makes a sort of panicked laugh. “Fuckin’... groceries, our mom’s making… quiche.”

“Mm,” says Karkat, and steps aside. “Well, c’mon in, then. I’ve got… candy and crap, I guess. You can have some.”

You stand up, making your way to the door before they can get in. “Babe, what’s going on? Everything okay?”

Fuckfacey recognizes you in an instant. Comp Sci tutoring. His lip curls. “Aw, man, c’mon, you’re sleeping with this motherfucker? You need some standards, man, even if you’re a–”

 

You don’t let him finish his sentence. You flip up your shades and show off your black-and-white eyes, and the kid’s eyes go comically wide as the white drains out of your left one and into both of his.

 

…

 

Jackson. _That’s_ it.

Not that you care, but it’s good to know what you don’t give a fuck about remembering.

You turn slowly around to face the other two kids; they recoil, but you don’t pay it much mind. At this point, you could care less about their reactions. Poor Jackson’s pitching an impressive racket inside the confines of his own skull, and you’ve got limited time here. You need to make an impression.

As such, you open your mouth and slowly, solemnly intone:

 

_“I jack off to Garfield."_

 

The ashen faces of the two younger kids shift in a heartbeat. The girl cracks a broad, incredulous grin; the youngest just looks horrified.

 

“All the time. I’ve got Garfield erotica on my computer, I’ve got pictures of myself fucking Garfield hidden under my bed. It’s why Angie broke up with me, I moaned his name instead of hers.”

The middle kid doubles over and lets out a wheeze. The youngest still looks like you just told him Santa isn’t real.

“Also, I pissed my pants when Carter hid in my closet that one time. And I spilled ketchup on Mom’s Christmas napkins and then hid them in the pantry. And I’m a _little_ bit gay. Just a smidgen.”

 

You take a moment to luxuriate in the building chaos, then open Jackson’s mouth and start drooling black slime for good measure. The middle kid yelps and grabs your arm, shaking you; you give it a few seconds, then slip out of his body. He stumbles back once he’s free, staring stunned at your blank, black-eyed face and scrubbing at his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

Karkat’s grinning merrily as can be, and when Feferi’s glowing face appears behind his shoulder, the kids turn tail and sprint away.

 

* * *

 

You sink triumphantly down into the cushions a few minutes later with Eridan’s fangs sliding against the skin of your throat, laughing as Karkat moves to kiss Feferi and winds up bumping his nose against her cheek. She pushes him down to the couch next to you, and he ducks in to kiss you hungrily before she hauls him back and tugs his face into her cleavage.

That leaves you sufficiently distracted for Eridan to kiss you instead, and you groan as he nips at your tongue. When he pulls back, his cheeks are beautifully flushed.

“You taste like shit.”

You shoot him a winning smile. “Don’t need to know how you know that, but alright.” He glowers and fists a hand in the front of your shirt, and you lick your lips and purr to him. “C’mon, motherfucker. Let’s see if we can’t get you sucking something besides blood.”

His eyes flash deadly and intent on you, and you can’t help but shudder at the appraisal in his gaze, like he’s studying how best to separate your flesh from bone.

A slow grin spreads across his face.

“Your double-funeral.”

 

And as he crouches down and digs his manicured nails into your thighs, Feferi leans over to kiss your forehead and leave a mark of dark pink lipstick, anointing you with a beatific smile.

“Happy Halloween, honey.”

Eridan gets his mouth on you at the same moment Karkat gets his fingers into her, and your moans very nearly harmonize with the wind outside.

 


End file.
